Eye of the Storms (Eye of the Storms #1) by Lisa Gillis Page A

take even a step away from the bed, I pleaded the request.
    “I’m sorry. You can’t, hon. You will be right outside though. Any changes, anything at all, and we will update you right away.”
    The rooms all circled a station where medical staff buzzed like bees around a hive. Tristan’s physician was among them, and upon seeing me, he handed off a chart to another professional and beelined my way.
    Our way. Mentally, I corrected my singular thinking when after greeting me, the doctor’s speculative gaze shifted to Jack.
    Putting his hand out, the surgeon made his introduction. “Hello, I’m Dr. Millosky. You must be Tristan’s father.”
    Now, after seeing Tristan, Jack must know how obvious his relation was to everyone. Politely accepting the extended hand, Jack replied simply, without denial or confirmation, smoothly omitting his surname as he introduced himself, “Good to meet you. Jack.”
    The surgery itself–as the nurse had said, and the surgeon now confirmed–went well. The surgeon explained that he accomplished what he set out to do. With therapy, Tristan would be walking crutch free within several weeks. The doctor also explained the circumstances that had brought Tristan to critical care, and that it was only a precaution because he was so young.
    To my astonishment, Jack had his own input.
    “They are saying it’s policy that Marissa can’t stay in the room with him. If he were in a single room could she be with him?”
    The doctor answered that there were no single rooms due to the sheer number of patients in ICU but reassured, barring any complications, Tristan would move into his regular room the next morning. When Jack nodded his understanding, the doctor, who had been Tristan’s specialist for years, sent a wink my way before moving off.
    As I forced my feet farther away from Tristan’s room and toward the waiting area, Jack asked, “What was that about?”
    “What?”
    Surprisingly, a scowl registered on his face. “He winked at you.”
    Barely evaluating the tone that bordered on jealousy, I didn’t immediately answer. Instead, I pulled out my phone, my mind intent on updating my parents and Olivia, who after a half hour, would be crazy for information on Tristan.
    “So don’t tell me. Whatever,” he grumbled. Standing until I sat, he took the chair next to me.
    “What?”
    The tone of his words, rather than his actual words, registered as I studied my phone. Fifteen missed calls and just as many texts. Tearing my eyes away from the tiny screen, I took in his face and felt a flutter in my stomach when finding his brown eyes all but green.
    “Tristan’s doctor? The wink thing? He just does that. All the time. Not to me. To Tristan.” My thumb moved in a quick text as I verbally continued, “Probably it happened just then because my insurance doesn't cover single rooms on the pediatric floor. But, Dr. Millosky knew I paid the difference up front for one. After, you know… After I got your check.”
    Jack digested those words and then quietly inquired of the money, “Was it enough?”
    My hand buzzed, and yet again, my phone went ignored. The sudden concern in his question was startling, and I beheld his earnest eyes.
    “I mean for now, anyway. To begin with,” he elaborated.
    A warm sweet feeling infiltrated my heart– like the coffee Olivia had earlier forced into my cold, shocked hands. Holding his gaze was doing something funny to my insides, and I looked away while nodding. “Yeah. Thanks.”
    “You know, I could probably raise hell until they let you stay in the room. Just a perk of the occupation.”
    Jack was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. At this, my mind stopped processing anything but that thought as I seriously considered what he offered. He was right. Tristan was a rock star’s son. That came with such privileges. Although I often condemned this sort of spoiled celebrity behavior, I now completely related when it came to a situation such as this.